JOURNEYS Mennonite Stories of Faith and Survival in Stalins Russia, John B. Toews, 1998

bbit roast I had ever eaten — and that in large generous portions .... My hosts, who sat at the table with me, had washed and combed their hair and ap¬ peared quite civilized. In the course of our supper conversation ... I noticed that one of the chaps, though he spoke a good Russian, sometimes used foreign words .... In an effort to find out more about him I briefly related my own life story . . . and particularly emphasized my status as a political prisoner. Now he trusted me completely. “If only you knew what happened to me during the past fifty years. I was one of very few of our Komi people who managed to get an education .... During W.W.I I was mobilised in 1914, fought at the front and even won some medals .... I was taken prisoner by the Germans and during my captivity managed to see a number of their larger cities. I realized how far behind we were in Russia, especially the Komi nation .... In prison camp we were kept well informed and were not surprised by the overthrow of the tsar .... I worked as the head cook for 202 JOURNEYS a German estate owner, married a German farmer’s daughter and did not intend to return to Russia. Motivated by nationalism and with the approval of our wives several of us decided to secretly slip back into Russia. Surprised by border guards and their dogs my wife and I became separated and so she remained behind in Germany .... I felt I had a great role to play in the new Russia and soon found myself on the streets of Moscow with thousands of others. I joined the Red Army and, with one hundred soldiers at my command, fought against the White Army. Between 1918-22 I traveled the length and breadth of Russia .... Overcome with longing I decided to return to my beloved Komi, where I finally arrived in the spring of 1923. How sad and hopeless my village looked. It was worse off than ever before.... I became active and introduced soviet government to our village. I was elected as chairman of our village council and worked hard and enthusiastically .... We made good progress but I had enemies in high places .... When we collectivized in 1930 I was elected to head the new venture. In 1933 we were ordered to give up our seed grain . . . but secretly I ordered the brigades to hide our bread and seed grain .... It was not long before I was discovered . . . but thanks to the strong support of [my] people I escaped a ten- year sentence or even the death penalty. I received a five-year term, but was only imprisoned for two and a half years .... I remained concerned about my people who had become much poorer. Hard work brought no betterment. One day I reached the stage where I had no energy left and was in complete despair. I took my gun to see if I could shoot some birds or rabbits. My wife brought me my leather hunting jacket and other supplies .... One last time we drank tea together. My good wife packed a few provisions. After dark I left. I could only tell my